Pixellated Depravity
by Madcow5678
Summary: Kenny discovers the addictive nature of Sims. Oneshot. Rated T, but tell me if I should change the rating


**Oh good grief. I don't have an explanation for this one. It's inspired by a conversation I had with Zib, put it that way. If I don't get any reviews for this, I understand. I don't know what possessed me to write it myself. Although reviews would certainly make me feel better about writing this...hmm**

**South Park & Characters © Matt Stone and Trey Parker  
**

Sims 2, I have found, is addicting.

It's not my fault, honestly. Blame whatever idiot gave it to my little sister for her birthday (I have a feeling it may have been my cousin or someone). Actually, scratch that, blame whatever idiot whose idea it was for you to NOT BE ABLE TO MINIMISE THE GAME IF YOU WANT TO DO SOMETHING ELSE.

Seriously, here is the situation: My sister hasn't stopped playing on Sims 2, even though it's been a month since she got the wretched game. It's honestly worse than the whole World of Warcraft episode ('cept, for some unknown reason, she hasn't gotten fat-go figure). If any of us ask to have a go on the PC ourselves, she fucking growls at us. My parents finally decide enough is enough, and pack her off to the Broflovski's for the weekend, so she can hang out with Ike, and spend some time becoming less dependant on a video game. Unfortunately, she doesn't close the game before she leaves, and instead, leaves a rather graphic description of what will happen if I do decide to close it. So when I come along, to do something normal, like play some random game or other, or look at something perverted, I can't. I click everything there is, but there's no fricking minimise button, for crying out loud.

During my mad session of clicking around trying to find something that will actually let me do something other than this crappy game, I press something, which brings up a whole different screen. Where you can…make people…

Okay, this is weird. This guy kind of looks like my dad. Just…change the hair….and my dad has a smaller nose than that. Voila, my Dad. In Sim form. Wow. That was actually quite fun. And I don't want my Dad-sim to be lonely. Now that I know what to do, I might as well make more…

.......

I end up making the whole town. Don't look at me like that: It's fucking addicting! Plus I have no idea how to minimise it anyway, and if I close it, my sister will be sending be on my 711th trip to Hell and back. The awesome thing, I discover, is that Karen's downloaded this thing that lets teens do it, as well as adults, so since I have control over every person in this game, I can screw anyone in town, and not have to deal with the consequences. Whoo Hoo! (Literally, that's what it's called in the game). So far today, I've woohooed with Kelly, Tammy, Bebe, Red, Tweak (shush, that was an accident) and Kyle (It was on his list of wants-I can't refuse my friend something that'll make him happy now, can I?).

I'm just having a bit of fun with Wendy-sim, when my dad walks through, sans his shirt, and plus three bottles of beer in his arms. Judging by the fact that he's using the wall as a support to hold him upright, and that he's singing Bat Out Of Hell loudly, incoherently and off key, I can safely say he's had at least another four already. I carry on with what I'm doing. Not like this is anything new to me anyway.

"'tcha doin', Kenny?"

I shrug.

"t's that ye're on?"

"New thing on the Playboy site." I have no idea why I'm lying to my dad, who probably couldn't give a shit what I'm doing, since he's drunk, but hey, he might remember at some point: I don't want to be ripped on forever by my dad. "Virtual reality, y'know?"

"Ohhhh." My dad squints at the screen, trying to focus on it, "Hey…that girl. She looks like Stan's l'il girlfriend…whatsherface?"

"Oh, I know, Dad. Uncanny, innit?"

He nods. There's silence for a moment or two, as Me-sim and Wendy-sim continue to fuck in a car, and then,

"Y'seen my shirt?"

I point over to the couch, where one of the random cats that hang around our place is asleep on top of it. Dad goes over, and yanks the shirt out from underneath it. The ginger furball wakes up, and hisses at my dad, who hisses back, and then leaves the room.

.......

The next day, I find how to minimise, at fucking last. But strangely, instead of my usual staring at girls with huge tits, I find myself looking for Sims stuff. Holy shit, you can get some depraved stuff: Blow job chairs for one. And orgy rugs for another. Jesus, who fucking MAKES this stuff, my kid sister plays on this game! So do I as it happens. So I download 'em all.

Okay, I admit it, I am a disgusting pervert. I know I shouldn't make Wendy and Bebe do things like that to each other. Or Tweek and Craig. Or Kyle and Cartman. But it's so much fun to do and-

"DUDE!!!"

I spin, round. And see Stan, Kyle and Cartman standing right behind me. Cartman looks as though he's about to throttle me, Kyle looks as though a large part of his mind has been raped, and Stan has just thrown up in a corner.

"…DUDE!!!"

I don't really think Stan is capable of saying anything else right now. Actually, I don't think Kyle's capable of saying anything at all.

"I uh…forgot you guys were coming over uh…b-but that's okay, I mean, we can…" I trail off when I see that I'm probably not going to be able to talk my way out of this one. The three of them turn and walk straight back out again. Shit. Oh well, hopefully they'll have forgotten about it by tomorrow.

Goddamnit, now my Dad-sim's set the kitchen on fire, and Me-sim's burnt to death. I quit the game in frustration (My sister can bite me), and walk into the kitchen…where a fucking strip light falls on me.

"Oh My God, You killed Kenny!"

"You Bastards!"

"Wait…aren't we mad at Kenny?"

"…Nah."


End file.
